


Jack of All Trades

by CrimsonNi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: 5 languages, Barbara never left, Bisexual Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Cooking, French, German, Hidden Talents, Impressions, Italian, Latin, Lidia Bastianich, SVU - Freeform, Seasons 16 to 19, Sonny can do no wrong, Spanish, Squad, Wood carving, cinnamon roll Sonny, full of surprises, lawyer Latin, wood crafts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonNi/pseuds/CrimsonNi
Summary: Sonny told the truth from the beginning.





	Jack of All Trades

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end!

Sonny is good at being Italian, at least that’s what the entirety of Manhattan thought after meeting him for the first time. Unfortunately, that’s the impression left behind at the other boroughs after each transfer. Rollins and Fin remember rolling their eyes when Sonny first stated, “I’m full of surprises.” He was pretty cocky at the time, but that statement could not have been any closer to the truth.

 

 

  * ****Sonny can cook****



 

 

Before Jesse was born, Sonny became a staple in keeping Rollins’ sanity in check. Already was she having trouble from her chaotic family on top of regular SVU drama, so it came as a surprise when Sonny, one day, invited himself over to cook her a meal. She was skeptical and downright bemused at the idea. In Rollins’ experience, any man that wanted to come into your home was expecting  _ something _ in return. She assumed that he was going to use this as an opener to hit on her, that he can cook basic meals but nothing fancier than a grilled cheese and tomato soup. 

 

Boy was she wrong; the man can  _ cook _ ! It was as if he trained from the best of the best. Granted, Rollins didn’t have much experience with fancy foods, but the pasta carbonara, risotto, lasagna, tiramisu—it was insane. She should worry that her weight would be affected, but he made everything in a way that threw that caution to the wind. And the best part? Never once did he abuse his power; he never lingered awkwardly by the door, he never touched her knee or crease of her arm, he never overstepped his boundaries. One day, while hanging out with the whole team, it just casually slipped about Sonny’s cooking knowledge.

 

“Hey, Carisi, where’d you learn to cook like this?” Amaro asked.

 

Sonny, who was in the middle of handing out his homemade cannolis, paused for a moment and blushed. The whole team looked in curiosity, this included: Liv, Barba, Fin, Rollins, and the two Dodds. 

 

“Ah, well it started with my Nonna; she’s the traditional grandma and wanted me to learn. Said I had to learn to help find me a spouse. But uh...well,” he paused again, blushing harder.

 

“Spit it out, Carisi,” Rollins joked.

 

Sonny still looked nervous. “...Before becoming a cop and a lawyer, I was really stressed out. I tried developing a drinkin’ habit but I stopped real quick; I stop eating when I’m drunk and I love food too much to quit it. One day, I was complainin’ to Bella while she was watching the Food Network. She was getting everything wrong so I stepped in to help her and she really liked how it turned out. Told me I should look into cooking classes to help destress…”

 

“And?” Amaro pressed. Damn the two of them.

 

Sonny continued to blush. “And there I met Lidia Bastianich. We kind of...I don’t know, hit it off. She mentored me, helped me get a certificate—”

 

“You have a degree in cooking?!” Liv inquired surprisingly at the same time Barba spit up his scotch.

 

Sonny could only blush harder. “N-No, not a degree. A certificate. I stopped studying it when I realized I preferred being a cop.”

 

“You know Lidia Bastianich?!” Barba demanded. 

 

“Yeah, you a fan?”

 

“Fan? That woman is a culinary god—at least by Italian food standards. I have yet to taste anything as good as her lobster risotto. Are you proficient on this dish?” Barba asked, hopeful.

 

“Well I can’t compare my cooking to hers—that ain’t fair—but I do know how to make it. Want me to whip some up?”

 

Barba felt like a kid on Christmas but the whole team wanted in on the gifts. A chorus of “YES!” rang throughout.

 

As Sonny headed for the kitchen, the rest devoured his cannoli, excited for the up and coming risotto. “Man, who knew, huh?” Amaro added amusingly.

 

 

  * ****Sonny can do impressions****



 

 

Everyone was pretty frustrated at the moment; they have been hitting a brick wall in trying to “trick” a mother into ratting out the real perp—her son. As usual in these kinds of cases, the mother was in denial about what her son was really capable of despite the evidence proving the contrary. 

 

The son was a handful too; an arrogant jerk who truly believed that he was going to get away with this. At this rate he was, but the team felt close, they just needed  _ something _ …

 

Suddenly, Sonny barges into the squad room with a wide grin and that set everyone else on edge. “What are you smiling about?” Rollins asked.

 

“I think I can get the mom to talk!” He exclaimed proudly, but no one was biting.

 

“Sure,” Amaro said in a bored fashion. There was still strain between the two and if anyone asked Sonny, he theorized it was because he was just feeding off of Rollins. Because he annoyed her, he also annoyed Amaro. Ah, love.

 

Sonny shrugged and felt it was best to let the Lieu in on his plan so he could handle it on his own. He phoned in the mother and booked the interrogation room with her; he wanted it to feel like red carpet treatment. The mother was a short, blonde-haired, late 50’s, former teacher with an old style attitude. She disliked all of the detectives, even Sonny, which was a little new for him because all (alright, most) mothers liked him. But he figured it was because he hadn’t hit the right buttons. Until now.

 

“Why am I here?”

 

Sonny focused heavily on his empathetic nature that would naturally pity a mother in the midst of denial. “I wanted to talk with you first.”

 

“Because?”

 

“We have to arrest your son, Mrs. Brady.”

 

He eyes widened and color drained from her face. “Excuse me? Why?”

 

Sonny reached into his pocket and silently placed a recorder on the table. “Because your son is a liar. He’s lied to us and to you.”

 

“You’re wrong!”

 

“We asked him to do it for you, to tell the truth for your sake, his mother. Everytime we asked him of that, he would laugh. Do you know what he would say to us about you?” Mrs. Brady remained silent as response. “I grew up in a matriarch; hardcore Italian home with a 5 to 1 ratio of women to men. My Ma, she taught me  _ everything _ about loving and respecting your mother. I hate to tell you this, Mrs. Brady but I don’t get that vibe from Ronnie. Do you?”

 

“Ronnie loves me! Not everyone had an “Italian” home, Detective but I raised him right.”

 

“I know and that’s what bothers me. To have a mother like you, who put everything she ever had on the line for a child she loved more than anything. To have that and still do what he did.” Sonny shook his head to rattle the lump in his throat. “I ain’t saying this to be mean, Mrs. Brady, I’m just asking for help to help your son.”

 

_ “Why do like protecting me?” _

 

All expression eroded from her face. Shock and awe and fear all circled together. “What in the world?”

 

But Sonny did not let up.  _ “You know that saving me from prison isn’t going to do anything.” _

 

“Stop that!”

 

_ “They don’t have enough against me but they know...you know what I did. I raped those women.” _

 

Her eyes glassed over and swollen tears began forming, blurring her vision of the detective. “Please…”

 

He smirked.  _ “And I don’t plan on stopping. When I get away with this, I’ll start up again. Maybe in New Jersey? Maryland? Delaware? You know, all the places we used to visit when I was a kid.” _

 

“You don’t mean that!”

 

_ “I mean every word of it and only have you to thank for that. For all. Of. Your. Help.” _

 

Mrs. Brady cupped her mouth and sobbed erratically. Sonny felt guilt squeeze his throat, worried that he pushed and killed his luck. However, Mrs. Brady reached across the table and held Sonny’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Ronnie. I don’t know what I did wrong, what I could have done differently to save you from all of this. I just wanted to protect you because I don’t regret holding on to you. I love you with everything I am.”

 

For the next hour, she continued confessing the truth of Ronnie’s whereabouts, destroying the alibi he created with her support. She unleashed the whole truth of Ronnie, all the history that built up until this point. Although she cried through the confession, she held onto Sonny’s hand, tightly, as if a weight was being lifted from her soul.

 

By the time he was done, Sonny was  _ exhausted _ , but proud. Ronald Brady was a difficult man to catch, so despite the battle wounds received in the process, Sonny was happy for the victory. When he exited the room, he was expecting to be met with a bored Amaro or a content Liv, but he walked into an entire, stunned audience. Well except Fin. Fin was enjoying a video chat with his grandson from what Sonny could tell.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s—WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” Rollins shouted.

 

“What?”

 

“Since when can you voice act?!”

 

“Oh that, I told you, didn’t I; I used to want to be a priest.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Sonny shrugged casually. “I found it easier to get people to confess by impersonating someone they knew. Hey, it wasn’t anything fancy since Ronnie’s a bass-baritone range; it’s the women that are a pain in the ass to imitate.”

 

“Ah-wha,” Rollins stuttered. Liv and Amaro could only remain speechless.

 

 

  * ****Sonny can act****



 

 

It was an accident of epic proportions. Barba hadn’t meant to learn of this “secret” (if it could be referred as that) but he was having drinks with Liv when he heard a familiar, albeit forgotten voice.

 

“Hey, Mr. Barba!”

 

It was Bella Carisi, all made up with what may be assumed as a “club outfit” and makeup. Her hair was wrapped up in intricate braids that did well in highlighting the shape of her face. The smile on her face, however, had Barba mistaking her, for just a moment, for her older brother.

 

“Isabella,” Barba replied courteously. He hadn’t spoken with any of Carisi’s family members since a couple weeks after the trial, as a follow up and check in. She said he could call her Bella, but he felt more comfortable in using her full given name. Surprisingly, it helped form a unique relationship between them.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t notice you there, Lieutenant Benson. How are you guys?”

 

The two women kissed each other on the cheek while Bella reached in to place a one-sided kiss on Barba’s cheek. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a gentleman—he was Cuban after all—but her one-sided affections seemed to be another “inside” attribute to their relationship.

 

“You look really nice; date night with Tommy?” Liv asked.

 

“Oh no, it was girls’ night out. Tommy is watching Reina tonight. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I couldn’t help and say hi to my favorite lawyer.” Her accent, although higher pitched, was exactly like Sonny’s. 

 

“How does your brother feel about someone else being the favorite lawyer?”

 

Bella laughed, her smile splitting ear to ear. “He’d jump in and agree.”

 

“I don’t know about that; your brother’s been rather arrogant lately,” Barba tattled. Liv side-eyed him, curious as to why Barba was complaining about Sonny’s typical behavior.

 

Bella proceeded to roll her eyes. “Geez, one would think he’d reign it in once he found a borough that’s kept him for more than 2 weeks. Can I apologize on his behalf?”

 

All three chuckled. “No need, I’ll find a way to humble him.”

 

“Although,” Live interjected. “This is just Barba complaining. Carisi has been a really good detective.”

 

Before Bella could reply, her phone buzzed, the ID showing it to be Tommy. “Guess that’s my cue. Hey, if you want to put Sonny in his place, just remind him to either shape up or make a dozen more “Dumb Jacks” in order to pay back his student loans.”

 

Barba and Liv looked at each other before looking back at Bella, confusion obvious in their expression.

 

“He never told you?”

 

“Told us what?”

 

A sly smirk came across Bella’s face. “I gotta go but,” she nabbed her phone and sent a text message to both Liv and Barba. “Watch that link when you get the chance. He made it in college. Tell me what you think of it.” She bid them a goodnight and hastily left through the exit.

 

**Next Day:**

 

Sonny was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the computer screen to type away on his computer. The reason? All three: Amaro, Rollins, and Fin were staring. Not glaring, but staring. He quadruple checked his clothes, teeth, hair, and neck. Nothing was out of place, sticking out, stuck on him, or misplaced, so  _ what the hell were they staring at?! _ When another 5 minutes passed and Rollins looked at him from over her screen—again—he had enough!

 

He slammed both fists down on either side of his computer. “What?!”

 

“What, what?” Fin asked.

 

“Why is everyone looking at me? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” all three said in unison.

 

“Are you kidding me? You all can’t even lie! Is it a joke? Am I still too new to know?” His voice was revealing how hurt he was beginning to feel.

 

Rollins softened immediately. “No! It’s not that. Just…. _ Dumb Jack _ ?”

 

“What….? How do you know…?”

 

Rollins rapidly typed on her computer and brought up on the bigger projector what was showing on her laptop. It was  _ Zenith _ , the film he made in college. “It wasn’t her fault; Lieutenant meant to send me another file and she actually sent this one instead.”

 

The “film” began playing, and it was him, on the white couch, having a scene with his classmate, “selling” her pain.

 

“Oh God!” Two voices said. One was from Sonny who was mortified and hiding his face in his hands, while the other was Barba, who had just entered into the precinct. 

 

“Why are you ‘Oh my God-ing’? What do you have to ‘Oh my God’ about?!” Carisi whined.

 

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. Truthfully, I was impressed by this—”

 

“You watched it?!”

 

“I had to, once I learned of the premise. Carisi, are you sure you want to continue working in law?” Barba genuinely asked, wondering if Carisi’s calling was in something else.

 

Sonny blushed scarlet, his pale skin allowing for the blood to practically glow under his skin. “Can we turn that off, please?! How did all of you get this?”

 

“Sorry, Detective, but that’s attorney-client privilege.”

 

His blue eyes turned painfully icy when he glared at Barba, which was impressive all on its own since Barba’s glare was notorious for being the scariest. But then his expression mellowed and he returned to his usual, soft eyes, although still with an embarrassed blush coloring his neck and cheeks.

 

“That right? Then please communicate to your client that I want a deal; royalties for sharing all of my college projects.”

 

“All? There’s more?” Rollins asked happily.

 

_ Damn it _ . He wanted to lie but the blush coloring darker revealed the truth. Everyone’s jaw dropped. “No…,” he tried weakly.

 

“C’mon, please, you have to share the rest! What else did you act in?” 

 

“Amanda, you want to see  _ more _ sex scenes of  _ Carisi _ ?” Amaro sounded facetious as he asked but also incredulous. The perfect ingredients for jealousy.

 

She didn’t dignify the question with a response but she continued waiting on Sonny’s response. He groaned, unbelieving that he was actually caving in. “You want more, get it from your  _ client _ , Counselor, but only after my royalties are negotiated.”

 

Barba smirked as he whipped out his phone and texted who Sonny was sure was one of sisters.

 

 

  * ****Sonny can speak multiple languages****



 

 

With Barba and Nick around, it was easy to rely on one of them when Spanish was going to be needed. Except, Nick left last summer and this week, Barba was on vacation and although NYPD and all of 1PP is diverse with multiple cultures, the squad momentarily felt at a loss of who to go to.

 

“I’m trying Google Translate and it’s not helping! Where’s that Uni...uh Gomez?” Rollins growled at her computer screen.

 

“That’s the first time you sounded like a privileged racist,” Fin boredly stated, not looking away from his own screen. Despite that, he still felt a cold chill through his spine, sure that its was Rollins staring a hole through him. “No offense.”

 

Before she could snap back, Sonny waltzed in with a box of cannoli and began offering it around the squad room. When Rollins didn’t accept, he frowned, and pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Sorry, it’s just these documents, they need to be translated. Where’s Barba when you need him?”

 

“Well let me take a crack at it.”

 

Rollins squacked in surprise. “What difference will you make; if I can’t read it, neither can you.”

 

But Sonny didn’t relent and playfully rolled his eyes. “Just let me see it.”

 

Rollins shrugged and figured she could use the humor. But she wasn’t laughing when Carisi calmly and easily read the first page of the document. “So this is saying—”.

 

“Since when the hell could you understand Spanish?!”

 

Sonny smiled. “Me and Nonna used to watch a lot of Telemundo.”

 

—

 

After making two arrests from a crazy college party, the detectives and Barba were hoping to have an easy moment at their favorite bar, Forlini’s. What they weren’t excited to come across was one of the bartenders arguing with a patron in another language. It was disruptive, but nothing escalating, yet they could see the female patron looking stressed. Fin and Rollins wanted to step back and “chill out” in one of the more secluded booths, but it was clear on Liv’s and Dodds’ face that they were a few seconds from intervening. The language recognized was French and surprisingly, the person who stepped up to help was none other than Sonny.

 

He gently tapped the woman on the shoulder and spoke softly to her before speaking with the bartender. He translated back and forth for a couple minutes before the bartender nodded, laughed, and fetched a drink. The woman was observed whispering something to Sonny and when the drink was placed down, both the woman and bartender, based on body language, thanked Sonny in French. The woman followed it up, however, with a wink.

Sonny “thanked” them back, grabbed his drink, and jogged his way to the rest of the squad.

 

“You can speak French?” Liv asked.

 

Sonny blushed and nodded.

 

“How many languages can you speak?” Rollins jumped in. “This is the second time I’m finding out you can speak something other than Staten Island.”

 

“What are the others?” Barba asked her.

 

“Spanish! Can you believe that?”   
  


Barba looked back in shock. As a test, he asked, “Tu puedes hablar como yo?”

 

Sonny narrowed his eyes and a part of him wanted to be defiant, but he was being challenged, and being challenged for an Italian meant you had to put up or shut up. “No solo puede hablar como tu pero seguro de que puede escupir una buena cancion.”

 

Barba laughed, actually proud and surprised that Sonny could flawlessly speak his native tongue.

 

“Sonny, other languages?” Rollins asked again.

 

“All together? Five. English, Spanish, Italian, French, and German. Six if you count Lawyer Latin.”

 

“Woah man, did your parents ever let you sleep as a child?” Fin finally added.

 

“Oh, they had nothing to do with it—well except for the Italian. It was my Nonna. She always told me that language was one of the first excuses people used to hate each other, so it was better for me to learn so I could understand how not to do that.”

 

Everyone smiled approvingly. “Your Nonna sounds like a good woman,” Barba stated softly, thinking of his own grandmother.

 

“Sounded—she’s passed. And she was; she also said it was a good way to raise my chances to get laid. Nonna made sure to watch my back in every capacity.”

 

 

  * ****Sonny can craft****



 

 

Originally Liv wanted Rollins talking with the little girl but an odd mental pull made her reconsider. Instead, she asked Sonny to speak with the little girl in the kid’s room. Liv was beginning to regret the choice when Sonny was being met with cold silence and blank stares. Just as she was about to pull him out, Sonny grabbed a pocket knife and a small block of wood.

 

“You believe in magic?” No response. “I’ll tell you a secret,  _ I do _ . My Ma used to tell me all the time how magical I was. I didn’t believe her at first. I thought being magical meant I could heal my cuts or punish my bullies, you know? But I found out, that’s not what she meant at all.”

 

The little girl seemed curious. She still did not respond, but she turned her body towards Sonny.

 

“I would throw tantrums, begging her for the secret. And one day, she gave me a block of wood, just like this. She said,  _ ‘Sonny, be creative. What can you change this block of wood into?’ _ and I tell her, _ Nothing _ . I didn’t know how to carve wood! She looked at me and told me I didn’t have a choice. Gave me a knife and left me alone for hours until I figured it out. When she finally came back, I showed her a horrible rendition of a cow. She asked me,  _ ‘Why a cow?’ _ and I said because I’m hungry!  _ ‘Can I please have some steak?’ _

 

The girl giggled, making Sonny beam as a result. What she hadn’t noticed was that while Sonny was speaking, he was carving away at the small block of wood in his hands. When she finished laughing, Sonny presented her with a refined wooden cow. There were spots and hooves—as if it were professionally made. The girl giggled some more and seemed to bond well with Sonny, finally answering some of Sonny’s earlier questions.

 

Liv remembers when Tom Cole pulled a gun to Sonny’s head and she pulled her own out to shoot him dead. She remembers Sonny’s face being covered, from hairline to chin in Tom’s blood. The memory wasn’t frequent and Liv was be Sonny.

He’s been attacked, shot at, hit by cars and she’s found herself not thinking twice about it...until now.

 

There was commotion going on in the background, resulting in her knocking on the window to gain Sonny’s attention. The girl’s father was roaring in the squad room, demanding to have his little girl back. It all happened too fast after that; the man had a knife, charged for Liv and although she could defend herself, Sonny somehow managed to lunge across the room and take the hit. He was slashed once, stabbed twice, but he managed to rip the knife out of the father’s hands. The man was also covered in blood, presumably Sonny’s, but the man had injured himself in the scuffle.

 

When the chaos finally settled and Sonny was taken to the hospital, Liv was only worried for the little girl. Later, she debated if she had the energy to stop by the hospital or simply call Rollins to check in on Sonny but ultimately, she decided on visiting in person. It was there where she learned of the full consequences.

 

“The father was HIV positive. Carisi had a lot of his blood on him, in his open wounds.” She sounded grim, borderline dissociative as she said it. 

 

As a result, to fully test if Sonny was infected or not, he would have to undergo medication and assessments for several months before the doctors could fully determine if he was in the clear. The process was difficult, the medication made Sonny very sick and angry. Liv believed the anger was for her but Rollins always assured her that that wasn’t the case.

 

One day, she realized that she never actually visited Sonny’s apartment and neither had Rollins or Fin. She wondered if anyone knew where he lived. The whole squad decided they were going to visit him, cheer him up and (on Liv’s end) ask for forgiveness for being so neglectful. For taking his life for granted. The neighborhood wasn’t too surprising; nearly everyone was an Italian-American and shouting at each other from across the street. He lived above a bodega, on the third floor where they found an older woman leaving bags at the front of his door.

 

“Who’re you?” She demanded.

 

“I’m Lt. Benson; Sergeant Tutuola, Detective Rollins, and Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. We work with Dom—Sonny.”

 

“Yeah? Well where’ve you been for the last few weeks. Boy has been throwing up his organs, sick with something! All the mothers are worried—he won’t go to the hospital!”

 

“Thank you, Ma’am for keeping a close eye on him for us. We’re here to check on him.”

 

“What about his illness.”

 

“He’s already been to the hospital. He just needs time to recover.”

 

The woman looked skeptical; a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. She stood frozen for a while until being interrupting by an opening door. It was a shirtless, but disheveled Sonny, with bleary eyes and a serious beard.

 

“Mrs. Catalina?”

 

“Sonny, you know these people?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am, I work with them. They’re my friends.”

 

“Then you need better friends, Sonny. You’re sick and they just—”

 

“I’ll make sure to scold them. Thank you for the soup. I’ll let my mother know how helpful you’ve been.”

 

Mrs. Catalina preened and turned back to give Sonny’s cheek a little pinch. She left without a goodbye to any of the detectives or Barba.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that; she’s a little protective.”

 

“Must you charm every mother you meet?” Rollins joked. It made Sonny crack a smile.

 

“What  _ are _ you guys doing here?”

 

“Visiting you,” Liv replied. Sonny looked at her, confused at all of them really as to why they wanted to visit him while he looked and felt so gross. But he didn’t have the energy to stop them.

 

He waved them in, apologizing for the mess in the living room. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but the mess he was referring to was the small pile of wood shavings created from the dozens of wooden statues surrounding his living room. Looking around, the squad was astonished to find, well, everything. Animals, ghouls, faces, symbols, religious figures. Some of the pieces looked polished and painted, while others looked as if he just finished them and needed a little bit of sanding. It was incredible.

 

“Sonny, wha—”

 

“I got a lot of time on my hands so I carve.”

 

Liv felt overwhelmed. The overeager detective, who she honestly believed wouldn’t last the year, was a man of talent. She wasn’t impressed or amazed; she was so  _ proud _ of Sonny. Proud that he fell into their borough and grew into a bigger person who still retained his values, and grew  _ with _ them, as opposed to away from them. And sitting here, creating pieces of art instead of sulking in his anger or hatred. 

 

“Your mother was right.”

 

Sonny, once again, looked confused, but a small smile was there. “She usually is, so I’m not surprised. What was she right about?”

 

“You are magical.”

 

And for the first time, in a long time, Sonny blushed.

**Author's Note:**

> -Peter Scanavino did train under a chef, but not Lidia Bastianich. I changed it for the story.  
> -  
> -Peter Scanavino acted in several films, Zenith being one of them. (Great movie btw) and I encourage anyone to keep an open mind and watch them. I figured for this fic, the "films" aren't studio made, but college grade.
> 
> -“Tu puedes hablar como yo?” : Means: "You can talk like me?"  
> -“No solo puede hablar como tu pero seguro de que puede escupir una buena cancion.”- : Means: "Not only can I talk like you, I can even sing a nice tune."
> 
> -Peter Sanavino really does wood carve. Apparently he does this behind the scenes of SVU and he's a history buff. WTF is he so perfect?!


End file.
